


Drarry Headcanons - Pottery

by etymolodrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Drarry, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter AU, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Headcanon, M/M, Magical Theory (Harry Potter), Mini Fic, Muggle Life, Not Canon Compliant, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Hogwarts, Smut, domestic drarry, i figure its good enough for ao3 regardless, if anyone wants to turn this into an actual fic youre more than welcome to lol, its very minor smut but still, pottery, this is more of a long headcanon than a fic but anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27284356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etymolodrarry/pseuds/etymolodrarry
Summary: Harry has taken up pottery as a hobby (much to Draco's enjoyment.)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Drarry Headcanons - Pottery

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written as bullet points and posted to instagram, so if it seems a little abrupt/disjointed, thats why lol

It was inevitable, Draco supposed, that Harry would pick up ceramics as a hobby.

An acquaintance made a joke about Harry’s surname—“ _‘Potter_ ,’ huh? Does that mean you’re into pottery?”—which, apparently, was all it took for Harry to sign up for classes.

His first few pieces were _very_ basic—a small pinch pot with Draco’s initials carved into it, a lopsided coil vessel that couldn’t even hold water, and a drape bowl made from marbled clay.

And then Harry’s instructor introduced him to the pottery wheel, and he _loved_ it. It had a _very_ steep learning curve, but with a lot of practice Harry managed to throw a few simple bowls within the first month.

At first, Draco was just happy that his boyfriend had finally found a hobby—but then Harry showed up one night with his own pottery wheel, and it quickly became Draco’s favorite, too.

Well, not because Draco was actually _using_ it, of course. It was his favorite because he loved watching _Harry_ use it.

There was something about Harry’s hands that got Draco _so_ riled up—the way his veins stood out from the effort, the steadiness of his fingers as he pinched the clay with _just_ the right amount of pressure, and _especially_ the way his hands wrapped around the clay and _pulled_ in long, smooth strokes to prepare the clay for throwing. 

It eventually got to the point where Draco had to restrain himself when he came back to Harry's flat after work to see Harry sitting at the wheel, concentrating on his work. Draco _hated_ to interrupt his masterpiece of a boyfriend, especially when he was giving him such a _lovely_ view.

Sadly, Harry was easily distracted.

All it took for him to glance up from his work was the latch of the door or the creak of the floorboards ~~as Draco shifted to ease the growing pressure in his trousers.~~

And then there was the way that Harry’s face lit up _every single time_ Draco arrived from work—smiling at him from behind the wheel, using his wrist to brush his hair out of his face, and waiting patiently for Draco to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

Draco’s voice usually sounded a little tight when he greeted Harry, which always made him laugh—because he _knew_ it was a result of Draco’s efforts to keep himself together.

The problem with the pottery wheel was the time constraint—because of how quickly the clay dried, a piece had to be started and finished within the same session, or it’d be ruined. 

However, Stasis charms (and Scouring charms) existed.

Therefore, it was never much trouble to cast _statis_ followed by a quick _scourgify_ so that Harry could ~~fuck his boyfriend over his kitchen table~~ _attend_ to his boyfriend. 

The only downside to his new hobby, Harry had complained one evening as he swept pieces of ceramic off the floor—Draco had tried to shove _just one more vase_ onto the already-full mantle—was that Draco _insisted_ on keeping _every single piece_ that Harry created. His flat was _full_ of vases, bowls, and cups—even the ugly, asymmetrical ones. 

And when asked _why_ he was like this _,_ Draco had shrugged and said that every piece was a physical representation of their relationship. Once Harry started practicing even more, (aka, _every single night_ ) each piece was like a small snapshot of the perfect life they had created together ~~and their bloody _fantastic_ sex life.~~

For example, that collection of tiny ceramic goblets was from the time that Harry decided to spend the entire weekend at the wheel, _completely naked._ Draco had done the only logical thing—turned it into a game of distracting Harry with his mouth until he gave in (Harry never lasted very long.) 

Harry’s favourite, while not the _most_ aesthetically pleasing, was the lumpy, unfinished bowl standing proudly on a corner shelf. It was from the time Draco came home and was on his knees in front of Harry before he could even cast a stasis charm on the clay—in fact, his hands were still covered in terracotta as he gripped Draco's white-blond hair, but neither of them cared.

Perhaps that was why very few people knew of Harry’s hobby; aside from Draco, only Ron and Hermione knew (and that was because it was impossible to hide the dozens of pieces covering every surface of Harry’s flat.) It was simply too intimate to share, especially when there were so few things kept from the public eye.

One Christmas, Harry gifted Narcissa a beautifully crafted vase and, after she commented that she’d love to get more like it, he sheepishly admitted that he’d made it himself.

After marveling about it to all of the party guests, she had turned to Draco— “Did you know he was this talented?”

Draco promptly turned red and barely managed to choke out a “er, yeah, I did,” because, well, _that_ particular vase was finished moments before Harry had Draco tied to the bed, gripping the sheets and whimpering. 

After two years of dating, they finally, _finally_ decided to move into their _own_ flat together—because even though Draco already lived with Harry, they wanted a place they could call _'theirs.'_

They used the opportunity to narrow down the collection of pottery Harry had made. It turned out to be quite a task since every one held its own memory.

"What about this vase? Do you remember it?"

"Of course I do, you made that when you were sick and _refusing_ to let me take care of you, you prat. I had to suck you off just to get you into bed."

“You _love_ it, though."

"Yeah, that's right," Draco said matter-of-factly, reaching forward to swipe the vase out of Harry's hand. "We're keeping it."

Once they were left with only their absolute favorites (still a few dozen pieces) they ended up sticking the rest in storage, as they had no idea what to do with them—until Draco came home with what he considered to be a brilliant idea.

“Why don’t we donate the others to an art house, or something?”

Harry had looked up from the pottery wheel, where he was wedging a large piece of stoneware. “Are you sure? You truly don’t mind? 

“Of course I don’t mind, Potter, how selfish do you think I am?” Draco looked Harry up and down appreciatively, admiring the way the pale clay stood out against his dark skin. “Besides, it doesn’t seem like you’re going to give up this hobby of yours anytime soon.”

Harry had smirked, carefully packing up the prepared clay before wandlessly casting _scourgify_ on both hands. “Well,” he said as he stood up and slowly approached Draco, “given that _someone_ has given me such a nice _incentive_ , I think I’ll continue for a bit longer.”

Draco’s mouth went dry as Harry’s hands rested on his hips to pull him close. “Shut up and kiss me, Potter.” 

* * *

**Magical Theory:**

_Statis_ : from Latin _sto_ “I stand, remain”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants to write a full fic for this, pls do omg i'd love to read it


End file.
